One Blazing Night

That was if she’d leave her work for even a week. Which he couldn’t see her doing. She seemed conjoined to her computer. Any real time away and she got antsy, just like back in school. Logan had mentioned he’d hardly seen Sam during his stay in Boston. Hell, Matt didn’t even have the job yet, so there was no use thinking that far ahead.

Where was she, anyway? She was the one who’d set the time and place. Then again, the only time Sam cared about being punctual was when it was work related, and sometimes not even then. She’d once missed a deadline on her final paper in computer science, but after she turned it in, it had been so great the professor had given her an A regardless. When it concerned someone like Sam, rules became obstacles, and obstacles could be breached. He’d used that philosophy many times since his studies at MIT and Harvard.

Not that he could be much of a rule breaker. He was a Wilkinson, after all. He had a responsibility to uphold the family name. A shrink would probably tell him that was the reason for the reckless hobby he’d picked up back in school. His parents would’ve both had heart attacks had they known about the illegal street/mixed-martial-arts fights Matt had become involved in. Logan had been the one who’d figured out that Matt hadn’t got buff by being on the rowing team.

Matt shook his head. Logan hadn’t exactly been the voice of reason back then, and even he’d thought Matt had lost his mind. Matt did a bit of jumping and a few stretches while he kept an eye on the crowd, the street, hell, the sky, in case she dropped in by helicopter.

Finally, seven minutes after their meet-up time, Sam arrived, breathless and wearing shorts. Tight Lycra shorts that hugged her hips and butt, made extra visible by the short snug top she wore. He tried to look up from that inch of pale flesh that peeked out between her clothes, but it took a minute. “It’s about time,” he said.

“I’m sorry, but it’s your fault.”

“Mine?”

“Come on—let’s start,” she said, leading him onto the running path. Starting at a jog, warming up. He ran beside her for the most part. Except when someone else wanted to share the path, and he had to do the gentlemanly thing and fall back behind Sam.

It was pure luck he didn’t trip and fall flat on his face when he got a view of her from behind. She was every bit as gorgeous as from the front. God bless the weather. It usually didn’t get cold until Halloween, which was still two weeks away.

Once the path was clear again, he moved up beside her. “So why was it my fault you were late?”

“I had to rearrange my schedule for the next month.”

“What? For a run?”

“Not exactly, but because I’m going to be late with the current project—which is really cool nano work, by the way—it set off a chain reaction. Let me tell you, Clark was not happy.”

“I imagine he wasn’t. But thank you.”

“Why?”

“I’m hoping this new schedule will allow you to spend more time with me.”

“It might. A little. If I don’t get stuck on a problem.”

“Understood.” Evidently, that was the signal she’d been waiting for to kick their speed up a notch. Maybe two. He was up for it, though. Maybe he could work out some of the tension her shorts had caused.

“It must be really different since you were here last.”

“What?” He hadn’t noticed much besides the woman next to him.

“The Fens. I mean, it’s all cleaned up. The track. They have so many activities on the green. I come here almost daily, either early morning or at dusk, like now.”

He spared a glance at the park. It was pretty awesome. The waning twilight was turning the leaves into jewels, the grass a solemn green, and the pond, the part he could see, was crystalline.

“I actually have a recorder to take down any ideas that pop up while I’m running,” Sam said, snagging his attention again. “And they usually do. It’s supersmall and hidable and very good at focusing on the speaker and not the atmospheric noises.”

“You’re carrying a recorder?”

“It’s under my top. I’ll show you.”

“Um...the recorder?”

She blinked at him. “Of course the recorder. What did you think?”

Matt smiled. “Are you recording now?”

They parted for a moment to let a small woman with two Irish wolfhounds pass. It was quite a sight. They were nearly bigger than their owner.

The moment he and Sam were back in sync, he looked at her confused expression. “I don’t know, Sammy. You’re really good at keeping my ego in check. It’s the first time in years we’re together and you can’t just be present here and now?”

Her shock came as something of a surprise.

“No, wait. It’s fine. I get it. I work a lot, too, and downtime is more of an idea than a practice. I sprang myself on you, and I’m sorry I caused you to change your schedule.” He lightly bumped her elbow. “Tell you what. How about we at least grab a drink before I have to leave?”

Her pace slowed, and she was looking down instead of at the path ahead.

“I wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty,” he said. “I honestly understand what it’s like to be buried in work.”

He hoped she believed him. Not spending time with her would be a disappointment, more than he’d imagined before he’d seen her again. But now, when he realized the attraction thing wasn’t going away, he needed to be careful. Her legs in those shorts? Her hair in a goddamn ponytail? Jesus. Yes, he’d do them both a favor by backing off.

She still hadn’t said anything, which was worrisome, but he recalled that back in school she’d get quiet like this when she was trying to absorb new information or solve a problem. It gave him time to notice that almost every guy they passed was staring at her.

After an uncomfortable few minutes he saw they were checking her out both coming and going. One asshole was being a particular jerk and Matt gave him a warning look. The guy ignored him.

Matt shook his head with a wry grin. “You’re going to get me in trouble again, aren’t you,” he muttered under his breath.

“What? What are you talking about?”

He hadn’t meant for her to hear. “Uh, the guys who are ogling you as if they’ve never seen a woman before?”

“What guys?”

“All of them?”

A short bark of laughter sent her head back and her ponytail swinging. “You’re imagining things. If anything, they’re probably staring at you. And what did you mean by getting you in trouble again?”

“You know, that time I got the shiner. Back in the day?”

“I remember, but that had nothing to do with me.”

“Are you joking? Of course it did.”

“I wasn’t even there. You were at a soccer game and some fans got rowdy. You also had a split lip and a good-size bruise on your chin. I think Logan got hurt, too. Rick was the only smart one and stayed out of it.”

The hell he had. Matt snorted a laugh. Rick had jumped in neck deep right along with him and Logan. The bastard had just got lucky and come out of the fight without a scratch.

It dawned on Matt that they’d lied to her about that night. A group of jocks had said some pretty nasty things about Sam, so the three of them had taken care of the problem, then made up the soccer story. Those guys had never bothered her again.

She’d got awfully quiet.